


Clouds in my Coffee

by Tamoline



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 01:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17091434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamoline/pseuds/Tamoline
Summary: Early in her 'employment' by Coil, Lisa remembers some good times, and some bad





	Clouds in my Coffee

Tick

Tick

Tick

Lisa tried to concentrate on the sound of the second hand trundling its way around the clock, to let it wash through her and become the entirety of her world. It was, granted, much easier to do this in the new digs that her ‘employer’ had set her up in. Sure, the thread-count and the view was sorely lacking by the standards of her previous life, but it was a hell of lot better than what she’d had to get used to in her migratory travel from squat to squat ever since she’d fled her parents’ home.

But the armed minders outside her door didn’t make it any easier to let things go, to not try and pick them apart, to make them suffer for this indignity, however much they might just be pawns of the man who paid them. She couldn’t help prodding gingerly at her stomach, the latest site of ‘appreciation’ from her captors.

Then again, fuck’em, she couldn’t help thinking with a certain degree of vicious vindictiveness. She felt her lips twitch upwards in a smile. She already knew Mike had a real problem with the sound of steadily dripping water, courtesy of… well, that didn’t exactly matter. Bringing it up directly was unwise, as she’d already discovered. But if she could introduce the sound a little subtly, maybe even quietly enough that he didn’t consciously know what he was hearing, the next time they took her out for a task… Well, he might just do something stupid in front of his coworkers, maybe something that’d cause them to turn on him, just a little, rather than focussing on her.

It was a hope, anyway, maybe the best one she had available at the moment.

The handle of the door clicked, and as her eyes flicked towards it, Hassan pushed it open with his shoulder, a cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other. A rich, complex scent drifted into her nostrils, a fond ache filling her chest as it brought back sunlit summer mornings with Rex, him sneaking them both the good coffee, the stuff their parents saved for when they were feeling indulgent or wanted to show off to guests.

Athenaeum coffee. It was far too expensive for her to have had so much as a whiff since she’d flown her gilded cage, when even merely half decent coffee was too much for her afford. And now her employer had known to send her this. She kept the walls up in her mind, not needing her power to know what this was — her employer demonstrating both his largesse and his intimate knowledge of her.

As if she needed the reminder. She might as well enjoy the coffee.

She accepted the cup and ignored the folded paper as it was placed on her lap for the moment. Hassan didn’t say anything, just returned to the doorway, blocking it with his bulk, watching her with his dark eyes. She resisted the urge to let her power fill in the blanks — obviously her employer wanted her to find something out from the paper, and he didn’t care how much pain it might cause her.

Best to minimise her pain as much as possible.

Instead she cradled the cup in both hands and blew on the surface, before taking a cautious sip, letting the taste fill her mouth before gliding down her throat. Oh, this was good. Far better than Rex’s fumbling attempts at making it, this was a cup that had been prepared by a professional barista, like the time her parents had been forced to give her and Rex a cup at the prodding of a guest who they were trying to cosy up to. One of the few times she’d seen her father almost lose his fake smile in public.

The coffee was still hot too, and not reheated. Had her employer…?

No, she wouldn’t think about that. It wasn’t worth the potential pain.

She sipped slowly, letting the mingled pleasure and pain of days past drift though her. Nostalgia wasn’t usually a drug she allowed herself to indulge in, but maybe just this once… She felt a tear trickle its way down her cheek and wiped it away quickly, her eyes flicking towards Hassan’s silent presence, to see if he had noticed.

His impassive face didn’t give many clues one way or another, so she let her power free, just for a second.

_Bored. Not paying attention. Has been told to remain here until I’ve read the paper and produced a result._

_Has had scrambled eggs this morning. Not cooked himself, cooked for him. Cooked by Nita. He slept with Nita?_

With an effort, she cut the flood off. As interesting as that tidbit might be, assuming it was accurate, she’d probably get more bang for her buck if she waited until she could see them both.

Alright, enough of that then.

She put the cup down on her bedside cabinet and unfolded the paper. She scanned through the articles, seeking some hint as to what her employer wanted to look at, resisting the urge to let her power help, at least for the moment.

The big news was proposed layoffs at the Stansfield plant, amid rumours of an imminent strike. Maybe? But probably not. Her employer hadn’t asked her to look into local politics like that before. Sports news, the usual indifferent performance of the local baseball team. Definitely not. And then there were the usual flood of minor stories, human interest mixed with whatever crimes had caught the reporters attention.

She froze as her eyes glanced over a small article about the death of a local businessman, Daniel McIntock, in an apparent robbery gone wrong. Her power slipped free of its leash without her conscious volition.

_Time since you told Coil he was a fence for the Empire too close to be coincidental,_ her power pitilessly informed her. _Killed because Coil approached him, either because he refused or he accepted._

_Article mentions police still investigating. Wouldn’t be if Empire killed him._

_Coil killed him._

_Coil killed him because of what you told him. Your information on his weak points wasn’t good enough._

_You killed him._

She felt the gorge rise in her throat and only barely made it to the ensuite toilet in time before losing the contents of her stomach. Flashes of the man, his flabby bulk lying bloody and still on the floor of his tacky pawnshop invaded her mind, and she couldn’t be sure if it was her power or just her imagination. Either way, the burn of stomach acids invaded her mouth again, and she choked and spat, trying to get them out.

Trying to get everything out.

Oh god, her first kill. Even if it wasn’t by her own hands.

From somewhere, she found some pea green bile to empty into the mottled and lumpy contents of the toilet.

Slowly, slowly she became aware of the completeness of her humiliation, of Hassan having moved up to the doorway to the bathroom, still watching her silently, impassively. He waited until she had shakily risen to her feet, washed her mouth out and brushed her teeth several times before speaking.

“Boss has someone he wants you to investigate.”

For a moment, she thought about screaming at him, about trying her best to tear him apart. About just sitting down on her bed and refusing to move, telling Coil to fuck himself.

Not today. Not fucking today.

_That’s the point,_ her power whispered poisonously in her ear. _Work for him now, be his tool, or he’ll take steps._

_Kill you._

_Worse than kill you._

Fuck

Fuck.

Slowly, slowly she managed to force herself to nod, to say as carelessly as she could manage, “Sure,” in a raw and scratchy voice.

When she returned to her bedroom, the smell of the remaining Athenaeum coffee just made her stomach lurch uneasily.

Nothing else.


End file.
